Phoenix Ablaze (BBW / Phoenix Shifter Romance) (Alpha Phoenix Book 1)

by Isadora Montrose

  Her cell binged. Charlene’s text said she was sorry, but something had come up and she couldn’t make it. Rain check. Well damn. How like Charlie. Hannah was pretty sure the something was Charlie’s on again-off again boyfriend. Would Charlie never learn that Christopher was not worth standing up her girlfriends for? Now what? The wine had not yet come. She could apologize and explain to the server. And then what? Spend her birthday eating delivery pizza on her own? She was damned if she would do any such thing.

  She looked up expecting to see the waitress, but it was the huge man who had been drinking by himself. He pulled out the stool opposite hers and asked, “Can I join you?” His deep voice made every skin cell vibrate. She felt his words right down to her bones and her panties immediately became damp. Down, girl.

  Hannah looked up and her heart turned over. Her skin prickled with heat and all the hairs on her body stood to attention. The man’s vivid blue eyes crinkled at the corners as though he spent a lot of time laughing. Or squinting. Jesus, she was about to let herself be picked up. She had never done any such damn fool thing. Not even in college.

  “Sure,” she heard herself say in sultry tones she had not known she possessed. She was practically purring.

  An immense hand extended across the table and she noticed the fine black hairs curling on the backs and fingers. Oh boy. “Jack Enright.”

  “Hannah Metcalfe,” she said, offering her smaller one. Jack sat down but did not release her plump fingers. Instead, he turned the handshake she expected into a gentle handholding. He admired her dark purple nails, before bending over her hand and brushing her knuckles with his parted lips. He inhaled sharply and smiled even more broadly.

  “Pleased to meet you, Hannah Metcalfe,” he rumbled. Black hair curled out of the top of his shirt even though only the top button was undone. His blue eyes were an invitation to sex.

  The waitress put Hannah’s wine and two glasses on the table.

  “Will you join me?” asked Hannah waving at the bottle, “Or do you want to stick to beer?” She really didn’t care. She believed people should eat and drink what they liked, not what other people thought they should.

  Jack put a hand out for the bottle and looked at the label. He nodded. “I’d like a glass,” he said agreeably.

  The waitress poured a little for Jack, who picked up the glass and extended it to Hannah to approve. She appreciated him not taking charge. She swirled the wine and looked at the legs trickling down the sides. She inhaled and enjoyed the fruit notes and caramels flavors she expected on the back of her throat. She sipped and it was just as she had anticipated. “Lovely,” she said.

  Jack kept his blue eyes locked with her brown ones while he tasted his wine. “Delicious.” But he didn’t mean the wine. He examined her flushed face as if he liked what he saw. Hannah had known intellectually that she looked her best. She had rushed home from work to shower, dress up, and redo her makeup before meeting Charlie. This man made her believe she was beautiful.

  Hannah mostly liked her curves and her generous breasts and, despite the determined efforts of some exes, she refused to join the ranks of self-destructive body haters. But it was hard to fight the attitude of the rest of the world that equated a high BMI with obesity. She was a big strong woman with plenty of muscle under her bountiful flesh. You didn’t get a free ride to college on an athletic scholarship if you were merely fat.

  She knew she had a nice rack. Her legs and hips had plenty of muscle, as did her arms; her bottom was both large and shapely; her shoulders were wide and soft and hid their strength under a layer of pearly flesh. But most of the time she struggled to feel attractive. Jack’s appreciative eyes warmed the cold places in her heart.

  His eyes roamed over her face as if her dark eyes with their long lashes appealed to him. He stared at her mouth as if he had never seen lipstick before and involuntarily she licked her lips with her pink tongue. He smiled and glanced at her cleavage.

  “That’s a pretty necklace,” he drawled as her nipples visibly tightened.

  Hannah looked at Jack’s open collar admiring the wildly curling hair that grew below the muscular column of his neck. She liked a man to be a man. She had had a boyfriend who waxed and she had thought it a stupid waste. It was not as though Linc’s thin chest had been improved by barren white skin. Of course, Linc was a stupid waste: he had complained that she got too wet and that there was too much spunk when they had sex. And that she was too athletic in bed. Naturally, she had wondered if she really was unfeminine.

  “So where are you from?” asked Jack.

  “Wisconsin,” she told him.

  “So how did you wind up in Seattle?”

  “After college I took a job in Madison. A couple of years ago they promoted me and asked me to move to Seattle. So here I am. What about you?”

  “I’m from a small town in Kittitas County.”

  They finished the wine over a long meal, talking about everything and nothing. After their chocolate cheesecake, Jack suggested an orange liqueur. He grabbed the check when it came and refused to let her pay. “It’s my treat,” he insisted. “After all you’re the birthday girl.”

  In the taxi on the way home, Hannah could barely keep herself under control. Jack’s clean, virile scent filled her nostrils and she wanted to jump his bones. He sat beside her holding her hand against his massive thigh. The whole trip was made in a fraught silence. Hannah knew that bringing a stranger home was crazy, but Jack did not feel like a stranger. He felt like the one. It was insane and reckless, and Hannah prided herself on being sensible. But everything about this big, gentle man sang to her.

  He glanced at the camera when he entered the elevator and put his arm around her waist and looked straight ahead. He said nothing, but his barrel chest rose and fell. Hannah felt giddy. I’m drunk she thought, but really she was only pleasantly tipsy. She could not blame what was about to happen on alcohol.

  Jack grabbed her as soon as she had the front door of her condo closed. He did not bother with turning on the lights, so they kissed in the glow from the surrounding buildings. Even on the seventeenth floor, Seattle was never dark at night. Hannah grabbed his arms tightly and held on as his beard scoured her soft cheeks. Their tongues tangled and explored. Suddenly Hannah felt her feet leave the floor as Jack picked her up by the waist so her face met his.

  After a long duel of tongues, he pulled up gasping. “Bedroom?” he asked.

  Hannah pointed. She reached out and turned on the lights and Jack looked around as if surprised at her sleek modern furnishings. He swung her into his arms, without commenting, however, and carried her down the hall to her bedroom as though she was a featherweight. It felt delightful to be carried off for certain pleasure.

  In the bedroom, Jack growled when he saw her bower. Dreamy white curtains enclosed her white queen-sized bed. Soft, dark pink cushions lay in massed profusion against the wrought iron headboard. Somehow, she had not been able to pretend to be sophisticated in her bedroom. With one great paw, Jack flung cushions and elegant comforter to the floor and tossed her onto the bed. Faintly she heard ripping but she did not care. She was as eager as Jack to get satisfaction.

  He flung off his jeans and shirt to reveal a mighty torso where black hair curled and followed his arrow of desire all the way to his erection, which sprung straight up from a mighty nest of black hair. Hannah stared with awed delight. This man might have been made to fulfill all her fantasies. His thighs bulged with muscle and even his long strong feet made her feel weak.

  “Now you, honey,” he rumbled. “How do I get into this thing?”

  “Zipper,” she whispered, pulling it down the side of her teal dress.

  Jack reached for the skirt and pulled it over her head. “Oh, man,” he said reverently when he saw her lusciousness for the first time. Hannah scooted up to the remaining pillows and lifted her arms above her head to better display her black lace bra and panties and stockings. Jack looked like he was trying not to swallow his ton
gue as he came down beside her on the bed and began to play with her flesh.

  He traced the outline of her nipples under the black lace until they hardened into stiff points. Then he plumped her breasts in his hands, and hefted their abundant weight before bending his head to take first one nipple and then the other into his mouth. His tongue pressed her tight red nipples against the roof of his mouth as he sucked hard while Hannah bucked and moaned with need. Without a word, he put a large palm against her mound and felt the dampness of her panties approvingly. He rubbed in lazy circles while he continued to nuzzle her breasts and sniff her skin.

  Hannah’s own hands were busy in his chest hair. She dug deep and found the hard muscle underneath the rich curls and then traced his tight flat brown nipples until his breathing became as unsteady as her own. Her bra disappeared as Jack continued to play with her breasts.

  “I can’t wait any longer, darling,” he growled as he tore the crotch of her panties and positioned his cock at the entrance to her pussy. Hannah spread her legs wide and then twined her legs about his hips as he slowly pressed his dripping cock into her tight depths. She could feel the broad purple head as it navigated her slick tight passage. He took his weight on his arms and kissed her deeply as she stretched to accommodate his length and breadth. Linc was so not built like this.

  Slowly he began to move within her. She matched him thrust for thrust until it seemed that they had become one being moving with one passion. She came as he filled her to overflowing with his come and fell asleep with him still inside her.

  She woke up hours later to the feel of his hair on the inside of her thighs. He had stripped off her stockings and ruined panties and was nuzzling his way up her tender inner thighs to the sweet honey of her vulva. She lay still and enjoyed this gentler pleasuring as his tongue lapped and his teeth tenderly nibbled at her soft folds. But she stiffened when his tongue began to swirl about her swollen clit before he drew it into his mouth. His tongue pressed it against his palate and his big hands held her hips still as she arched off the bed in response. She spasmed and went still.

  He came up her body at a rush and claimed her mouth with his own still redolent with her creamy juices. “Good morning,” he rumbled as he gave her breasts a friendly squeeze before poking her playfully in her soft belly with his rock hard cock.

  “Good morning,” Hannah whispered shyly, spreading her legs hopefully.

  She was not disappointed. Jack thrust into her with his cock while his tongue did the same in her mouth. His big hands found the two globes of her bottom and kneaded and squeezed with the same rhythm. The combination was too much and she came with a violence that forced him to erupt. He collapsed on her, breathing like a man who has run a long way, before rolling off her body to lie beside her and hold her hand.

  “What time is it?” she asked looking at the pale light coming through the delicate white curtains that covered the outer wall of windows.

  “Zero five hundred,” he said.

  It took her a moment to work the time out. “You woke me up at 4:30 in the morning?” she yelped.

  “I have to report at zero six hundred,” he said. He sprang out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on for the briefest wash ever known. Within minutes, he was back and dressing in his clothes.

  “Coffee?” she asked.

  “No time,” he said as he put on his shoes and tied the laces. He whipped out his cell and asked for her number, which he keyed in efficiently. “I’ll text you this morning,” he promised, bending to kiss her goodbye.

  Hannah got up and had a leisurely shower before slowly and tenderly anointing herself with her fanciest scented lotion. Her breasts were red with beard burn as were her inner thighs. Her face was equally chafed. Her labia tingled, too. She was going to have to insist that Jack shave before sex, because this rash was just unacceptable. She throbbed between her legs and deep inside. Every tiny muscle felt as if it had been strained by unaccustomed acts. That she would just have to endure. Poor widdle me with a big bad bear. She giggled.

  Lying against her fluffed up pillows drinking coffee, Hannah contemplated her blissful future. She was going to go to the market and buy the most delicious dinner and cook it for Jack. No, first she was going to go out and buy the toughest razor on the planet. Then buy food. Electric razor or blade? Blade, she decided. So much smoother.

  CHAPTER TWO

  November, three years earlier...

  HANNAH LOOKED AT JACK as he sat on her narrow white leather couch. He had kicked off his shoes and put his bare feet up on the glass coffee table in an attempt to make his big frame comfortable. Somehow, her froufrou boudoir with its pink and white delicacy merely emphasized his rugged masculinity, but her living room furniture just looked foolish with him in it. Thank goodness she had bought it all on Kijiji. She could probably sell every stark and uncomfortable piece without taking a loss.

  She set their coffee cups on the table and sat down across from Jack in the angular steel and leather chair that pre-Jack had seemed so cosmopolitan. Now it just seemed skimpy and stiff. Armless chairs might look elegant but they weren’t comfortable. She needed furniture built for a woman who was five eleven in her bare feet. And for a man who stood six five in his.

  Jack was flicking through the stations with her remote and she watched him critically. He had shown up tonight after a three-day absence without any explanation. Just a, “Damn, I missed you, woman.” And the sort of kiss that made her forget her three days of worrying. Especially after his brand of reunion sex.

  He was wearing a black tee shirt and black jeans, and with his bushy new mustache and sideburns, he looked more like an urban badass than the genial, outdoorsy type she had met in The Bear Trap. The worn black motorcycle jacket that was hanging in her hall closet indicated this was no new style. She cleared her throat.

  “What is it, honey?” he asked at once.

  “Where have you been?” she blurted.

  He narrowed his blue eyes and looked sharply at her. Then he grinned sheepishly. “My job ran longer than I expected,” he explained.

  “You didn’t call,” she said. “I was worried.”

  “Aw, honey, I can take care of myself,” he assured her. He got up, came over to her chair, knelt down and put his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

  “You could’ve called,” she insisted ignoring how hot his arms around her waist got her.

  “I left my cell here,” he admitted.

  “I know. It rang incessantly for the first day. I had to stick it in your drawer under your socks.”

  He laughed and stood up. “I better go charge it.”

  “Jack Enright,” she said firmly, “Aren’t you going to tell me where you were?”

  “I can’t do that,” he said without evasion. He tried a sexy smile but the finality of his words lay between them.

  It was too much. “Jack, it’s obvious you have money. Lots of money. It sort of seems like you have a job. Sometimes. At times, not so much. Today you show up after three days without a single word of explanation. I can’t live like this. Where were you? And why?”

  Jack looked at her as if making up his mind what to tell her. Hannah’s heart sank. He was going to lie to her. But all he said was, “I’m a freelance military contractor.”

  “Like Blackwater in Iraq?” Hannah asked. Her face was as horrified as she felt. And yet hadn’t she feared he was a criminal?

  “Well, I’ve never worked for them, but I work with similar companies, yes.”

  Hannah’s brown eyes widened and she looked stricken. One hand covered her wobbling mouth. “You’re a mercenary,” she said accusingly.

  “I am not,” he sounded outraged.

  “You take money to go to war,” she said in a trembling voice.

  “We’re not usually sent to a war zone,” he said mildly. “We mainly provide protection for Americans in places where there isn’t a lot of law and order.”

  “You get
paid to fight,” she insisted.

  “I guess so,” he said. “Just like our troops.”

  “That’s different,” she protested.

  “You think?” he asked. “I get paid a bit more, but the deal is the same. I put myself in harm’s way so civilians can be safe.”

  Hannah had wrapped her arms around her waist without noticing and now she swayed and moaned. Jack seemed to realize that he had stepped in it, for he reached out and tugged her to her feet. He wrapped her in his strong arms and rocked her gently. “It’s okay, honey,” he said soothingly.

  “Does your family know what you do?”

  “Well, sure,” he said.

  “And they don’t mind? Your parents don’t worry? Or your brothers?” He had told her he had four.

  “Well,” he said slowly, “Mom frets. But you know what mothers are like.”

  “No,” Hannah said tartly, “I don’t know what mothers are like.”

  Her only experiences with maternal concern came from her many foster mothers. They hadn’t abused her, but they certainly hadn’t worried about her. She had told Jack about her childhood and it hurt that he didn’t remember her confidences.

  Her foster mothers had all been struggling to make ends meet and for them fostering had been just another way of making money. Looking back, it made sense that she got mac and cheese for dinner when their kids had hamburgers; and that her school clothes came from the thrift store while their kids got new stuff from Wal-Mart. She could hardly fault them if they didn’t have love to spare for their fostered kids, when they didn’t have love enough for their own.

  “Sorry, slip of the tongue,” Jack said into her hair, holding her even tighter. “You can take it from me, that my Mom would prefer me stateside.” He chuckled.

  “So would I,” she said. She pushed away from his chest and looked up at him. “Couldn’t you find something else to do?” she begged.

  Jack shook his head. He looked stubborn. “Not if you mean what I think you mean,” he said slowly. “I gave my word before I met you, and I won’t go back on it.”